


before

by Balthuza



Category: Shards of the Sun (D&D Campaign)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 02:33:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16904445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balthuza/pseuds/Balthuza
Summary: She dreamt of Oswald, again.





	before

When Flick wakes up, long before either Nedd or Cyn does, she feels more rested than in the evening, but a long way from truly refreshed. As she sits down and spreads the items on her part of the bed, she can’t really recall the last time she had a good night of sleep.

Before they left home, most likely.

She dreamt of Oswald, again, only this time her mind making use of the new images scrying gave her, twisting it into something sharper and darker, like it wasn’t bad enough already.

Looking at Nedd and Cyn sleeping, she allows herself a small smile, that at the very least for this moment they have some peace. 

She turns to the weapons and the spellbook on the bed, pushes everything else from her mind and starts weaving spells into the material. The password is a silly thing, but it makes her snigger to herself so she lets it be.

Then there are the automatons at the door and it is almost welcome, the way her mind races how to get all of them out of there. It is more of an academic challenge at this point than a life and death situation, since they obviously are supposed to keep them in and not kill them, so she almost smiles at the adrenaline flowing in her veins and mentally catalogues their option.

Cyn opens the door and runs, leaving both of them alone, and for a moment Flick loses balance. She half expects to hear fighting outside, but there is only the sound of one of the constructs moving away, and it is very obvious that Cyn decided to leave on her own. 

She is surprised, and there are first coils of anger lightning up in her stomach. 

Cyn left them, left Nedd who she wanted to save enough to come to this cursed plane, after seeing him for one day. 

Flick thinks of Oswald, of the hand bleeding after being cut with the damned arrow, and takes a deep breath.

Cyn might’ve left them here, but Flick will leave nobody behind. 

She’s almost chastised when she sees Cyn running towards them, but it soon becomes obvious she ran the wrong way and had to pass next to them one way or another. The good part of being both half-invisible and a puddle of gelatin for the most part of the fight is that nobody can see her face.

When she disables the second automaton and Cyn chastises her for staying to shut them off, rather than running forever, hoping they’ll get bored, she bites her tongue and simply concentrates on packing the constructs into her bag.

She is not impressed.

Then she finds out that both Vira and Lintari are in the city - most likely, since this is where Cyn send them, and for a moment she feels like screaming. Those were not very good plans, but they were all they had, and right now they have nothing. Well, almost.

Burb is godsend ( _ not by you _ thinks Flick at Garl, and maybe feels a bit of guilt afterwards. She wasn’t very nice to him lately, only speaking when she wants something. She’ll have to make him something nice and pretend to have lost it in his temple, the next time she sees one), and Flick lets her mind wander watching him work. There is an idea here as well, and it is a nice image, Burb’s exasperation as he sees Nil almost cut off his finger with a spoon or something.

Cleaning, very bad cleaning, she’ll admit to herself, is just a distraction. She knows Burb knows, in more ways than one, and it gives her a little bit of hope. Not much, since they are all bound with their word, but a little. Then Cyn keeps interrupting her thoughts insisting she wipes the table in this way, not in that way, and the irritation returns.

Flick wonders.

At this point she can really see only two options here. Well, three, but she’d rather not entertain the last one, even as angry as she is.

Cyn either ignores her, or thinks her stupid, and neither option is a nice one. 

There is a tiny voice that reminds her of the cold stare, and the white ring on her hair, whispering that maybe, just maybe, they are back here in more ways than one, but Flick mentally stomps it out with her heavy boots to make it shut up.

It doesn’t.

Then Cyn let’s the memory crystal, Nedd’s crystal, be crushed into dust ( _ the king might lie _ , Flick knows,  _ but whatever for, when truth would be so much more satisfying? _ ) and the voice howls.


End file.
